


Life’s What You Make It

by Servalan



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, F/M, More angst, Shuttlecraft, facing consequences, inspired by songs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 06:31:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20466566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Servalan/pseuds/Servalan
Summary: Kathryn faces some harsh truths about her relationship with Chakotay.





	Life’s What You Make It

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Manalyzer for an idea, a quick beta, and thorough discussion. Your encouragement keeps me going. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> Characters belong to Paramount/CBS.

“Sugar for the pill

You know it’s just the way things are

Cannot buy the sun

This jealousy will break the whole.”

-Sugar for the Pill by Slowdive

“And if I’m not the one for you

You’ve gotta stop holding me the way you do.”

-Water Under the Bridge by Adele

**Life’s What You Make It**

Kathryn jolted awake, one leg propped up on the shuttle’s console. She blinked several times and looked over at her first officer, who quickly looked away as though he had not been watching her.

She barely noticed the gentle hum of the engines, the soft beeps as Chakotay checked the instruments. The silence was a welcome change. Still, she was on duty and it was certainly not acceptable to be falling asleep. Now was not the time to ignore protocol, she thought wryly.

“Sorry Commander,” she said softly and looked at the course headings. 

Chakotay looked over at her and gave her a lopsided grin. “Not at all, Captain. It’s good to see you able to fall asleep. Without music even,” he added.

Something in the way he said that irritated her. That and she’d been wondering why the hell he insisted on coming on this mission. She didn’t need him there to look out for her, this trip to collect mineral samples was as routine as you could get.

“You know,” she said, fingers dancing lightly over the console, “I thought Ensign Celes was assigned to accompany me on this mission.”

“She was,” he said, “but her confidence has increased significantly since the last time she was on a shuttle.” 

She could feel, if not see, the slight smile on his lips. Of course he would know better than she that Celes had been doing much better since some personal time spent with the Captain. And it was foolish to pretend otherwise. 

“Still this trip hardly required the presence of the command team,” she said, barely keeping the frustration out of her voice.

“No, that’s true,” he said calmly and offered nothing further. 

She glared at him. “What’s the real reason you came on this mission?” She tripped over the hypocrisy in her voice, no, it was more like projection. If he ever concealed his feelings it was because circumstances forced him to. No. It was because of her choices, not circumstances. She had no trouble taking full responsibility for stranding them in the Delta Quadrant so why was it so hard to admit her culpability here?

“Because I haven’t spent any real time with you for so long. It’s as if...you’re avoiding me.” He dropped his eyes.

“I’ll admit that things have been strained lately. I suppose they have been for a long time,” she said softly, hearing the sadness in her voice and allowing herself ever so briefly to indulge in its nakedness.

“But why? We’ve not been this distant since the Equinox and we were able to trust each other again even after…”

“Because I married you,” she said and his eyes flew back up to meet hers.

“To her.”

“Kathryn, I…”

“Oh so we’re back on a first name basis, are we?” Her voice dropped, dripping with acid. It wasn’t fair and she knew it and she didn’t care.

He held up his hands. “You set the protocols and I follow,” he said gently.

Suddenly she was ashamed. She had pushed him away and it was right for him to move on with his life. She wished she could go back in time and erase what she had just said, as though her words were as significant as Harry’s mistaken calculations with the slipstream drive. If only this was so easy to correct. 

She slumped down in her chair and lightly rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, ad she knew he meant it. “I didn’t realize your appreciation of Tom’s musical influences extended beyond the 20th century, however,” he said, with a slight chuckle. His ability to detect the near imperceptible shift in her mood never failed to astonish her. 

It was a peace offering and she gladly took it. “What, you think I only listen to the Stones? I’m simply broadening my musical horizons. I thought you’d be glad it’s something more than Mahler’s Symphony.” 

She clamped her mouth shut. The last time she had listened to that particular piece was after a rather spectacular fight between the newlyweds in Cargo Bay Two. If he picked up on that, he didn’t let on.

“I was referring to Slowdive’s Sugar for the Pill,” he said.

Ah yes. Of course he heard that through the tiny bulkhead that separated their quarters. She’d listened to that on repeat shortly after leading an away mission to collect gallicite. She’d wanted to personally restore spirits after Voyager had passed a collection of wormholes controlled by the Borg. Her team had been pinned down in a cave by a group of aliens with far greater weapons, but she’d managed to get everyone to safety. Neelix had organized a party to celebrate their victory. But as she toasted the crew, she noticed the Commander sitting closely with her protege off in the corner, deeply engaged in conversation, missing her speech altogether. It was then she _ knew. _

“It has a nice haunting rhythm, don’t you think?” She offered.

“Yes, but for that kind of emotional impact I always prefered Adele’s Water Under the Bridge,” he responded, adjusting their course heading again.

She’d heard him request that song in the mess before but never thought much about it. Now it hit her with what he had been trying to say. She wanted to snap at him, to tell him he was being unfair, that regardless of the situation she had placed them in with her damn parameters, she _ had _ to listen to music now. How else could she drown out the audible evidence of their enthusiastic lovemaking every single night? 

“I’ll change the musical rotation,” she said, sinking further down further in her chair.

“How about you play something now, get a little rest.” He held up a hand to wave off any protest. “You know as well as I do only one of us needs to be awake right now. Please,” he said softly, “let me do this for you.”

A small smile escaped her lips, despite herself. She settled back, readjusting her foot on the console. Even if she couldn’t sleep, she might as well make the most of the environment between them that she had created. He was clearly willing to extend the olive branch and it was time for her to accept it. She glanced at her first officer and closest friend of the last eight years, noticing the tiny lines in his face that matched her own.

“Computer: Play Talk Talk’s Life’s What You Make It.”

END

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t exactly know why I felt compelled to write this unaltered timeline post Endgame, but I couldn’t not do it. I’ll hand in my JC card on the way out. Thanks for reading. Comments very much appreciated.


End file.
